Lame Conversation
The Marionette Palace The bar is a sleazy joint for one thing and one thing only: it's a exotic dancer bar (Sorry guys PG-13 only!). There is a stage in the front of the bar and another on the right and left walls. Each one has several polls on the stage and various other ... equipment. The light in the bar is dim and usually very smokey and has a stench of body odor and cheap perfume even when the bar is closed. In the middle of the place is the island-style bar itself, encircled by bar stools. Tables are placed around the bar, and chairs surround the stage. Techno music and flashing lights are always blaring from this place when it's open to the public. Dancers from all walks of life strut their stuff on the stage, from males to females and even the gender neutral types. The owner of this bar is M'al, who seems like a decent guy, but what's his real motive in all of this? He just seems out of place. Contents: M'al Obvious exits: North leads to Dim Alleyway. Nightbeat has to wonder what he did wrong to be assigned to run Powerglide through sensitivity training. Then Nightbeat remembers: what he did wrong is a very, very long list. He has to wonder, though, how he even qualifies to teach it. Maybe that he's had to take sensitivity training himself so many times? Eeesh. He glances over his shoulder, checking to make sure that Powerglide has not been mobbed by hobos, and then he opens the door and announces, "The Marionette Palace! The perfect place for sensitivity training! 'cos what's more sensitive than a bunch o' dames worried about their tonnage, eh?" A spiked shoe promptly clongs Nightbeat in the head. Ow. Why in the world would Powerglide need sensitivity training? He's a gentleman! Sure, he's made a few mistakes but who hasn't? Some one is obviously out to get him because there is no reason why he should even be here. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Sensitivity this, sensitivity that," Powerglide mumbles, sauntering in to the bar. "I say we ditch that lame idea, tell Rodimus I'm all better, then sit back and watch some babes." First Aid wasn't assigned to this, but he volunteered once he found out about it. Powerglide has a problem and he needs help. First Aid is unwilling to let the minibot suffer alone and so has come along to do what he can to help Powerglide out. He stands next to Powerglide and puts his hand on the aerial acrobat's shoulder. "Now now, Powerglide. Please take this seriously. We're just trying to help.' "Help me with what?" Powerglide snaps, shrugging off First Aid's supportive hand. "I'm fine! I aint got a problem! I don't get why everyone thinks I do!" He huffs and crosses his arms. Everyone is crazy. Yeah, that's it. Nightbeat drawls, "Powerglide, humans get uppity when you wave a gun around 'em. They just ain't used to size of our weaponry. So I gotta do this, or Rodimus Prime'll ride my case, and if Rodimus Prime rides my case, I'll ride your case, and that's more case-riding than anyone needs." He squints at First Aid and wonders if maybe First Aid would be better at this than Nightbeat is in general. "Autobots too," First Aid says concerning waving guns around. He then adds, "But honestly, Powerglide, don't do this just to avoid Rodimus getting angry. Do this because you want to get along with others better and not upset your friends." First Aid's posed. Powerglide droops his shoulders and groans. "Are we /still/ talking about that? I told you guys a million times! It was an accident! The kid was askin' for it! I was framed!" If there's one thing Powerglide is good at it's sticking to a story even when there's evidence to contradict it. "Why would I want to get along with others? They all suck. And they're mean!" Nightbeat rubs his temples and explains, "Kiddo, if you got along with others, they won't be so mean. So now. Consider these fine, fine ladies. What would be a good way to indicate to one that she's pretty?" He turns to First Aid. "You got any suggestions from the peanut gallery?" Powerglide snorts. "Oh puh-leeeze! Like First Aid would know anythin' about that kinda stuff! Heh. Heheheheheh." He places his hands on his hips and basks in his cleverness. First Aid folds his arms, "I'd hope you'd want to get along with others because it's the right, /nice/ thing to do." To Nightbeat, he says, "Tell her, I suppose, though to be honest Nightbeat I think just mentioning it out of the blue like that might be taken the wrong way." The wrong way...? Or the /totally right way/?! Powerglide points a finger at First Aid and hollers "WRONG!" right in his face. "See, what you gotta do is waltz right up to her, slam your hand down on somethin' and say 'Hey, you! You're hot! I'm hot too! Let's get together and make somethin' happen!'" Nightbeat leans against a wall, crosses his arms, and sighs, trying a slightly different tact, "If you wanted to get a skirt's attention, so you could... talk to her, yeah, what would you-" Then Powerglide continues on the first track, and Nightbeat covers his poor, sensitive audios. He wags a finger and corrects, "/Wrong/. Slamming your hand could be viewed as threatenin', an' stuff. 'Hey you' is awfully informal, too. That, and saying you're hot is something she should be able to figure out on her own and comes off as kinda arrogant." First Aid stares back at Powerglide, "A little forward, don't you think? You have to be classy, Powerglide. Subtle, even. You can't just go in there, guns blazing." By guns he means sexy muscly arms, of course. He starts to nod to Nightbeat in agreement, but then pauses. "Er, wait, is this what Rodimus meant when he said sensitivity training?" Nightbeat insists blithely to First Aid, "If Powerglide can get through this night without being slapped to death for calling some broad something he shouldn't, he oughta be able to handle talking to humans without torquing them off." This is what Rodimus Prime gets for assigning Nightbeat to sensitivity duty! Powerglide rubs his chin thoughtfully, seemingly ignoring the conversation going on around him. "Hmmm..Okay...Okay...I think I got somethin'. Okay, how about this? I walk up to her and say 'Hey babe. You're pretty smokin'.'" "I wish I had your confidence, Nightbeat," First Aid admits. He looks over at Powerglide but doesn't reply to whether or not he approves of Glide's suggestion. He thinks it could be worse. Is it confidence or incompetence? Nightbeat rubs his chin, considering Powerglide's revised attempt, and he replies, "Eh, what the heck. Go, give it a try!" He waves his hands, shooing Powerglide forward. "Heheheh, watch and learn, Doc," Powerglide asides to First Aid in the smuggest way possible. Without any hesitation (or a chance to rethink this) he struts right up the first woman..ish thing and bellows over the music, "HEY BABE! YOU'RE PRETTY SMOKIN'!" The womanish thing sort of stares at Powerglide, as if not sure what to make of the loud, red robot. Then she goes for the fire extinguisher. Powerglide turns around and immediately tries again on another woman. "Hey, hot stuff! How's about you buy me a drink and I let you touch my muscles!?" First Aid watches as Powerglide moves the moves on the woman, quite clearly skeptical of the whole thing. He shakes his head at the second line Glide tries on her. "I have to wonder, Nightbeat," he comments, "Is it really ethical to subject these women to him just for our own training purposes?" Nightbeat shrugs, withdraws a few shanix, little space coins, and starts counting them. He points out, "It ain't ethical to subject /anyone/ to Powerglide, but these skirts, at least, are gonna get paid, in the end." Powerglide is now standing on one of the stages and harassing a dancer. "Hey! I got a pole you can dance on!" He pelvic thrusts, "BOO-YAH!" The second woman hisses, "Got it backwards, buster. /You/ should be buying /me/ a drink." She then storms away. The third grimaces and grumbles, "Ain't enough cash in the world for that." Luckily for lady number three, Powerglide has managed to get over his 'backhanding women' problem. "Pfft! Whatever!" He looks her over a few times and snerks, "'Sides, you aint much to look at after all. You'd have to pay ME for lettin' you do anythin'! Ha! IN YOUR FACE!" "I guess," First Aid replies, not convinced. He continues to watch to see Powerglide's perfomrance, shaking his head, "Wow, he's doing terribly..." Nightbeat pushes off the wall, tries to chase down Powerglide, and grab the Minibot. He hisses, "Oookay, Romeo, we're going back to square one before you get out of the autoclave and into the smelter." None too soon, as a dangerously spiked heel is flung at Powerglide's head. Powerglide is beaned square in the head by the shoe and retaliates the only way he knows how: lots of yelling. "DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? I'M POWERGLIDE! I'M THE MASTER FLYER OF THE AUTOBOTS! YOU SHOULD BE LUCKY I'M EVEN CONSIDERIN' SPENDING MY NIGHT WITH YOU!" Fortunately for everyone involved, Powerglide doesn't put up a fight against Nightbeat's grasp. "YOU KNOW WHAT? FORGET IT! YOU AINT NOTHIN'! YOU HEAR ME? NOTHIN'!" First Aid strides after Nightbeat, helping him drag Powerglide back away to safety. "Maybe you should try it Nightbeat's way next time," he tells the minibot. To Nightbeat, he comments, "Should we start bar hopping? I don't know if he's going to have any luck anywhere in this building now..." There's a lot of people staring at them. Powerglide knows how to yell. Nightbeat looks over at First Aid and is forced to admit, "Yeeeah, let's get out of here. Did I mention I'm wanted on Monacus, too?" It happened when he took Swoop shopping. Then Nightbeat tries to shake Powerglide and snaps, "Stop shouting! People think you're angry when you shout! And quit bein' so arrogant. No one likes a braggart, even if you /are/ that good." Nightbeat's posed. Powerglide begrudgingly obliges and shuts his mouth. "Tch, fine. Whatever, she wasn't even my type, yanno?" He shrugs and tries to look his awesome self but deep inside he is crying. ): You move north to the Dim Alleyway. Dim Alleyway This dimly lit alleyway leads to a darker side of the already corrupt place. The alleyway is stacked with crates and the dumpsters from other stores and shops from the Last Chance Alley. There is a slight stench of rotting food, alcohol, and the homeless. The ground is usually wet with something either pooling out of the dumpsters, or with blood on the wrong day. This is one place even the Monacus Police don't come. There are a few underground clubs along the way as well, their doors usually well hidden from the public eye. Obvious exits: South leads to The Marionette Palace. East leads to Last Chance Alley. West leads to Black Market. You move east to Last Chance Alley. Last Chance Alley If there's a seedier side to Monacus, this would be the place. Dark alleyways, infested trash-heaps, and the most dangerous beings in the universe, all co-exist here in a tumultuous cesspool of alleyways and unlit streets. Only the most desperate or beings most down on their luck find themselves living here. Packs of turbo-rats scurry through the heaps of trash, searching for a morsel to eat. The stench wafting from the cold alleyways is repulsive, and in a way, evil. A pervasive chill seems to permeate the air, as haunting as a bad memory. Contents: Loan Sharkticon Obvious exits: North leads to Olympic Stadium. Southeast leads to Casino Strip. West leads to Dim Alleyway. You move southeast to the Casino Strip. Casino Strip'' If it was considered bright and noisy outside, then it was nothing compared to this. Visitors' optics are assailed by rows and rows of brightly lit, flashing machines that line the floors. Audio receptors are blasted by horns and bells, covering the entire sound spectrum, not to mention the shrieks, howls, and roars of the patrons as they watch their credits come and go at the whim of chance. To the left is a relatively quieter area, where patrons stare intently at tiny figurines on recessed tables that seem like they're actually moving... Contents: Speedy Jack's Palace o' Fun Obvious exits: Northwest leads to Last Chance Alley. South leads to Central Plaza. East leads to Lotza Money Casino. You enter Speedy Jack's Palace o' Fun. '''Speedy Jack's Palace o' Fun This place looks almost like someone took a garbage dump and made it flashy, but with that same polished look as the rest of Monacus. The majority of the patrons certainly belong in a dump, anyways. Maybe it's just to add a sense of authenticity. A bar stretches from one end of the far wall to the other, with shiny brass railings and little bowls of snacks. Large clear refrigerator doors line the wall behind the bar, displaying various drinks, some the likes of which one could never even imagine, and it's mindboggling to think what species would drink *that*. The floorspace is filled with tables and booths, most of which are along the walls. To the left, a kiosk with gaudy flashing lights advertises itself as the 'official Speedy Jack's souvernir booth'. But to the right, is something most out of place. While the building looked fairly big from the outside, the right side of this room opens up into a massive room, filled with gaming machines and tables. Exotic plants streak to the ceiling above, fighting for room with neon-colored tubes of light. Contents: Biff the Waiter Obvious exits: South leads to Casino Strip. East leads to Gambling Hall. You move east to the Gambling Hall. Gambling Hall Cries of strange-looking avians can be heard from above, over the dull roar of the crowd gathered here to wager. Waitresses of all imaginable species, all dressed in what would probably be revealing outfits for members of their own species, wander about serving drinks. Bright, flashy, enticing games of all types are on display, each looking better then the last. Obvious exits: Back to the Bar leads to Speedy Jack's Palace o' Fun. First Aid has arrived. Powerglide has arrived. "Really?" First Aid asks, clearly interested. "How did you pull that off?" His tone isn't accusational, as he trusts Nightbeat more than he trusts the Monacus authorities. "Powerglide, are you going to start taking this seriously and accept our advice or not?" Nightbeat replies to First Aid, tone hush hush, "Uhm... would you believe I tried to teach Swoop how to haggle? 'cos that is actually exactly what happened." He looks around the gambling hall, trying to decide if this will do to put Powerglide through more devious tests or not, and he concludes: it has waitresses, so it should work. He adds to Powerglide, "It don't matter if you don't dig that kinda kitten. You still gotta play nice." Nightbeat's posed. "Uuugh, fine. If it will get us out of here faster, I'll play along." Powerglide crosses his arms and looks generally unhappy. All that yelling has made him tired and all he wants now is to go home. Powerglide's posed. "Yes." First Aid replies to Nightbeat's rhetorical question. "But how did that cause you to be wanted on Monacus?" When Powerglide doesn't seem enthusiastic, the Protectobot shakes his head. "I hope we're not wasting our time trying to help you, Powerglide. The Autobots *need* you in good shape." Nightbeat hands Powerglide some shanix, and he directs, "Go buy a drink and tip the girl /properly/." Seeing what Powerglide does not should be enlightening. He explains to First Aid, "Weeeell, Swoop's a Dinobot, y'know? An' maybe he haggled a bit too... convincingly." "Well, yeah. 'Course they need me. I'm the best Autobot we got!" He chortles a few times before snatching the shanix from Nightbeat, "Alright, alright. Whatever will get us out of here quicker." Worlds Best Autobot saunters on over to the closest waitress and coughs, "Hey, think you can get me somethin' to drink? It's been one hell of...an hour." First Aid ahhhs, "I would have thought that'd fit right in here." Pause. "Course... maybe Dinobots are a bit /too/ Monacusian for the Monacusians." He leads Nightbeat to a table so they can adequately watch Powerglide put the moves on the next waitress. "What do you think, Nightbeat? Is there any hope for him? I mean if he keeps causing trouble, threatening allies and pissing everyone off, it's only a matter of time before Rodimus expels him from the Autobots." Nightbeat sits down at the table, leaning back in the chair. He shakes his head and drawls, "Powerglide's a bit rough around the edges, but he's an Autobot through and through. He might get brigged, now and then, but he ain't gonna be expelled." "Do you think he'll improve?" First Aid asks. "I mean it sure doesn't look like he /wants/ to." Powerglide decides to start up some idle conversation with the waitress. "....Uhm..so...have you ever seen the movie Mega Shark vs Giant Octopus?" Nightbeat leans back even more in the chair, and he groans, "First Aid, we'd have to convince Powerglide that being socially correct is /awesome/. Maybe if social correctness made Decepticons explode or... I don't know. I ain't so good at it myself, I gotta say." The waitress actually looks interested, "Oh, yes! It was soooo scary!" "...Ya...Ya think? I thought it was kind of.. you know..cheesy," Powerglide mumbles, scratching at the back oh his head. "But, whatever, I mean, as far as movies go I guess it wasn't that bad. Uh, hey, you ever seen Curse of the Komodo? That was another...'good' one." The waitress is clearly the kind of girl who would stand on a chair and scream if she saw a mouse. One wonder how she survives on Monacus, given all the rats. "Oh, I was terrified! I had to jump into my date's arms." Powerglide doesn't really know what to say about that. "..Huh. Uh, well, have you seen High School Musical? It was goo-I MEAN, I /heard/ it was good." The waitress clasps her hands together and enthuses, "Oh, I /loved/ High School Musical! It makes me want to... dance. Do you like to dance - I didn't catch your name?" "Maybe if we convinced him how useful it is to work as a team when fighting Decepticons?" First Aid suggests. The Protectobots are all about teamwork and friendship. Hot Spot even made them all practice a choreographed dance routine while singing a song about friendship. He watches Powerglide put the moves on this new waitress. Or at least ask her about random movies. Hey, at least he isn't yelling and throwing stuff and just being a big jerk. "Uh..P-Powerglide. I mean.." Powerglide clears his throat. "The name's Powerglide." He stands there awkwardly for a few seconds before remembering to reach his hand out for a greeting. He's not really used to that. He usually just punches people in the shoulder to say hello. "I'm..not really that big a dancer." Nightbeat actually looks over at Powerglide and whispers to First Aid, "Hey, don't look now, but he's not doing too bad. What's changed?" First Aid says, "Maybe she's just his type?" The waitress giggles and waves back, introducing, "I'm Alara! It's okay if you don't like to dance. It's better to admit it than to pretend." "Tch, yeah. Aint that the truth," Powerglide says, clasping his hands behind his head. "I mean, last time I tried dancing it landed me a restrainin' order. But enough about that. So you, like, work here or somethin'?" Stupid questions are a great way to keep a conversation going! The waitress giggles and points out, "I'm a waitress!" Indeed, she is wearing a tag that says 'waitress' and not much else. Nightbeat holds his hands out in front of him, and he asks First Aid, "Could we just surround Powerglide with people like that?" No, Nightbeat, they can't. "Woah, really? What's that like? Do you make a lot of money? What do you do? Is there dancing involved?" Powerglide seems genuinely interested. The waitress explains, "Well, see, people order drinks and food. And then I bring it to them!" Amazing, am I right? "I don't really get paid much, but the tips are okay. The dancing's... just on the side, yannow?" "No, he pretty much has to be surrounded by us, I'm afraid," First Aid replies. He watches Powerglide and Alara some more. "Yes... he's learning! Hopefully this'll translate into not waving his gun around all the time." Not /that/ gun. You pervs. "Woah! That /is/ amazing! That's a super important job, you know!" Powerglide exclaims, completely taken aback by what a talented and skilled person this woman is. "On the side, eh? So, how does someone like me get to see ya dance?" Nightbeat asks First Aid, "Could we just... make everyone watch Curse of the Komodo so that Powerglide will be nice to them? Or would that be cruel and unusual?" Yes, Nightbeat. It would be. No one should ever have to watch that movie. Alara smirks ever so slightly, and she answers, "Well, y'see, that really depends on what kind of tip I get." "/I/ don't want to have to wait Curse of the Komodo, personally," First Aid replies. At Alara's reply, First Aid is silent for a few moments. Then he asks Nightbeat, "Did you just hook Powerglide up with a prostitute, Nightbeat?" Powerglide paws all of Nightbeat's currency at Alara. Whatever. It aint his money. "I like how you think." Nightbeat sinks into the chair and mumbles, "I aaaadmit nothing." First Aid says, "Does this really count as learning to be nicer, though?" Nightbeat rubs the back of his head, and he suggests, "We could tell Powerglide to pretend that everyone is a hooker and call it close enough?" Huh, that bouncer over there is looking at Nightbeat funny... Alara smiiiiiles at Powerglide and leans over to whisper a time and location to the Minibot's audio before wandering off to, you know, deliver drinks. Nightbeat's posed. Awwww yeah, boyeeee. Powerglide is one smooth operator. He rubs his hands together and makes his way back over to Nightbeat and First Aid. "Heheheheh. Man, this wasn't such a crap idea after all!" First Aid looks back at Nightbeat, "But what happens when he starts offering Elita One energon chips? You /know/ that's going to happen." He doesn't notice the bouncer looking at their table, as he's facing the wrong way. "Ah, welcome back Powerglide. So what did you learn?" Powerglide puffs his chest out and places his hands on his hips like the macho man he is. "I learned that making lame conversation can lead to some hot stuff! Ohhhright!" Nightbeat sees that the bouncer is kind of ambling nearer to him. That is Grade A not good, considering he's wanted here. He starts looking for the exits. Nightbeat tries to keep a straight face as he says firmly, "Great. Now just make lame conversation with /everyone/, and you'll be set." Powerglide shrugs, "Really? That's it? We had to do all of this just for that brilliant nuggest of wisdom? Seriously?" He eyes Nightbeat, "...We aren't leaving, are we?" Nightbeat raises one finger as he spies a Gatling gun under the bouncer's trench, and he hisses, "Dunno about you, Powerglide, but class is dismissed. Time I wasn't here!" That said, he makes a break for the fire escape, the bouncer sprinting after him with heavy footfalls. Hopefully First Aid can wrangle Powerglide back to the shuttle station. Powerglide leans over to First Aid and whispers, "Don't ever repeat this, but man.. I hope I'm as cool as Nightbeat one day." First Aid sees Nightbeat suddenly make tracks in a hurry. "Er." but then he sees the bouncer and understands. "Well we can come back here again another time, Powerglide. Come on, we better get going." He stands up, but Powerglide whispers something to him. The Protectobot wobbles and has to hold onto a chair for support to avoid fainting from shock. Autobot Message: 3/6 Posted Author Report Sun Jul 19 Nightbeat ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Nightbeat's image flickers onto the screen, as if being viewed via grainy security footage. He's running through a dirty street, as if he was being chased, and to judge from the bullet-holes in his armour, he probably is, as he reports, "Managed to hijack some of the security cameras here - they really need better security, so Red Alert, if you ever wanna do some freelance work? This place needs you." He ducks into an alcove. "Anyway. Powerglide has passed his sensitivity training." First Aid could probably argue that point. A thug in a trench goes thudding by the alcove, apparently not noticing Nightbeat. Once he's gone, Nightbeat continues, "Bumblebee, Decibel - good work lately! Gonna move you up, to Analyst and Sergeant, respectively. You can yell at me la-" The thug comes back, and Nightbeat runs for it, out of the field of view of the camera. A few shots can be heard. End of Transmission